


Rivals?

by bluemadridista



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fabsillas (mentioned), Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Secret Relationship, Sexual Content, spain nt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemadridista/pseuds/bluemadridista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My idea that the Madridista and the Cule that supposedly hate each other are really in a secret relationship with one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rivals?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the idea. This is all lies to my knowledge  
> I'd love to hear what you think of the fic! Let me know xx

Sergio ran along the pitch to defend his team – well, his practice team. The entire national team was on the pitch, playing a practice game. The Real Madrid guys were all on one side with Torres and Mata, of course versus Barcelona with Llorente and some of the others.

Sergio’s eyes were on Fernando, because well, because they always were. Fernando might have moved on. He might have been playing house with his tiny little Chelsea teammate, but Sergio still liked to watch his long graceful legs as he loped down the pitch after a ball. It was those legs running down the pitch to get into position that distracted him, caused him to lose sight of Villa and Llorente coming at him, coming at the goal he was meant to protect, and made him completely oblivious to Pique running toward him.

Pique tackled Sergio so hard that he winded him. Pain shot through his back and his mouth opened wide in a silence scream that he didn’t have the breath to push out. Pique stood up quickly and walked away from him, muttering Spanish curses, and running to celebrate with Villa who had managed to hook the ball into the net.

With that, Del Bosque called out to end things and corral the squad into the locker room where he would give them all a talking to – especially Pique – and then let them shower and go back to the hotel where they wouldn’t be his problem again until the next morning’s training.

Del Bosque called Pique into the little makeshift office next to the locker room. His expression was as emotionless, as it always was, when he began his short, stern speech. “Club rivalries and hatreds end when you are called up for La Seleccion, Pique. I do not care how much you and Ramos hate each other. You had better work out your differences and get it together. One more hard tackle like that on my watch and you’ll be out of here.” The manager said nothing more as he sat down behind the small desk.

Pique knew that was his cue to leave and he exited with nothing more than a, “Yes, Sir.”

 

Sergio walked to his hotel room, still aching from the knock from Pique. He knew he had bruising over the majority of his back. He slowly swiped his keycard in the door, and hoped Iker was off with Cesc or anyone, really. He wasn’t interested in chatting with him, watching movies, or eating. He just wanted to rest.

When he opened the door and walked inside, he jumped at the sight of the man sitting on his bed. “How long are we gonna do this?” The man asked.

Sergio shut the door behind him. “Do what?” He muttered, rubbing his forehead. His eyes were focused on his shoes – Gucci, brand new – rather than the man staring at him from the edge of his bed. He couldn’t look at him. Not yet.

“This!” The man’s voice was raised, but not quite to a shout. Still, Sergio flinched. “Pretending we hate each other, swearing at each other…” The man paused and lowered his voice before continuing, “Fouling each other… hard. Too hard.”

That. That was what Sergio needed to hear, that admission of guilt. It had been too hard and he knew it. He lowered his hand and looked up, meeting Pique’s eyes – his ice blue eyes that Sergio loved so much. Pique’s eyes (and nearly everything else about him) were so different than his own, so different than his other lovers (Fernando, Iker, Raul…) and he loved them for that.

“You hurt me,” he muttered.

Pique rose immediately and rushed to him. Sergio fell against him, wrapping his arms around him, dropping his toiletry bag to the floor, and clutching his shirt in his fists. Pique wrapped his long arms around his shoulders, held his head with one large hand, silently wishing Sergio still had all his long hair to wind his fingers into.

Pique was the only person that made Sergio feel small. His other lovers were his height or shorter, and nearly always smaller. Sergio was always the one to hold them the way that Pique was now holding him. Pique was so big… taller with longer arms that held him in a way he had never been held before.

Sergio nuzzled his face against Pique’s neck, breathing deeply to inhale the scent of his sweet and spicy cologne. Pique turned his face toward him and whispered into his ear, “I’m sorry.” Sergio smiled against his neck when he felt Pique’s voluptuous lips press a sweet kiss to his ear.

He pulled away a second later, retrieved his bag from the floor, and moved away to sit on the bed. “Why’d you do it?” He asked quietly. “I know we keep up this stupid game of hating each other, because the media and rival fans eat it up, but why’d you have to do that? It really hurt. My back still hurts.”

Pique sat on the bed beside Sergio and stared down at his lap, absently picking at the seam running along the side of his shorts. Sergio lowered his head and glanced over out of the corner of his eye, staring at Pique’s long fingers. “I saw you,” Pique said quietly.

Sergio’s head jerked up and he practically shouted, “Well, yeah, I think it was pretty obvious that you saw me! You knocked me flat on my back and…” Sergio paused. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “And you just walked away. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t even look back to see if I was okay.”

Sergio watched as Pique’s hand moved away from the seam and slowly slid onto his hand. Sergio was more than happy to let him wiggle his finger between his and give his hand a good squeeze. “I mean, I saw you… I saw you staring across the pitch at him. You were watching Torres and I… I got jealous.”

Sergio couldn’t help grinning as he turned to face Pique. The grin fell into a sympathetic smile when Pique turned a sorrowful face on him. “I can’t compete with him,” Pique muttered.

Sergio shook his head. “You don’t have to, Ger. I’ll always have some feeling for him, I think. He was my first love, but he’s moved on now. He’s living with Mata! And I’ve moved on.” Sergio reached up with his free hand and cupped Pique’s cheek. “You know how I feel about you.”

A smile spread over Pique’s face. The smile made his eyes twinkle and Sergio’s heart melt. Pique pulled Sergio onto his lap and pressed a firm, but gentle kiss to his lips. “Does it really hurt?” He whispered against his lips as his hands ghosted over Sergio’s back.

Sergio whimpered and nodded. He was back to feeling small in Pique’s long, strong arms. Pique let his hands trail down over Sergio’s back, careful not to inflict more pain. When he reached the hem of his t-shirt, he snaked his hands under and slowly brought Sergio’s shirt up, pulling it over his head. He took a moment to savor the beauty of Sergio’s chest before he ducked his head and pressed kisses down his neck and onto his shoulder. When he looked over Sergio’s shoulder, he caught sight of the purple bruising on his back, mostly along his spine.

Sergio shivered when Pique’s fingertips lightly stroked up and down his spine. Pique placed his lips to his ear and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Sergio shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he said, sliding off Pique’s lap. “How did you get in here anyway, Baby?” He asked, walking to the bathroom. His back and his hips hurt more than he was letting on. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of the sink and leaned his weight on them, sighing.

“I heard Iker telling Cesc they needed some ‘private time’ together. Gross. So, I bribed the hotel manager – I think he has a crush on me – to let me in here. I thought we could have some time alone.”

Sergio perked up and smiled at his reflection. He turned the water on and splashed some on his face before he returned to the bedroom. Pique was now lying back on his pillow. He patted the bed next to him. “Let me hold you,” he said quietly.

“Maybe I’ll let you if you lose your shirt,” Sergio said, grinning mischievously.

Pique smile and shook his head, but did as Sergio requested, tossing his shirt off to the side where it fell atop Sergio’s. Sergio climbed onto the end of the bed and crawled on all fours to Pique. Pique raised his arm and allowed Sergio to cuddle in next to him. Pique wrapped a long, protective arm around him and kissed the top of his head.

He smiled down at Sergio. He always marveled at how someone so big, manly, and tough could look so small when he curled against him or nuzzled against his neck when they hugged. He only had a few inches on him, but Sergio seemed to make himself so small in his arms as if he really felt like he needed Pique to protect him.

Sergio had been strong his entire life, always taking care of his family, his friends, his teammates, his lovers. It felt so good to curl up against Pique’s strong side and to let someone else take care of him. He traced the hard lines of Pique’s abs as Pique’s fingers trailed over his shoulder.

“Ger,” he finally said after a few minutes.

“Hmm?” Pique hummed deep in his throat.

“Iker will probably be with Cesc all night. Will you stay with me?”

Pique nodded and said, “Of course,” immediately. He didn’t care if Iker did come back. He yearned for someone to know their secret, to know that they didn’t really hate each other, that maybe they even… Pique shook his head gently, shaking that thought away. He’d had Sergio’s body and plenty of his time, but he was sure Fernando still had his heart. And maybe that was for the best. Love would only make the distance between Barcelona and Madrid seem greater.

“Can we turn off the light and rest?” Sergio asked. “I’m really worn out.”

Pique pressed his lips to Sergio’s hair and gently disentangled himself from Sergio. He slid off the bed slowly and walked to the door, flicking the light switch. He heard the covers rustling and knew Sergio was climbing under them. He walked through the darkness and slid onto the bed, under the covers. Sergio was right there, curling his hard body against Pique’s, begging to be held and petted, adored by his lover.

Pique hooked his finger under Sergio’s chin and tipped his head back. His lips were mere centimeters from Sergio’s. He could feel Sergio’s hot, most breath on his lips. He smiled and prepared to kiss him when suddenly Sergio spoke.

“Ger,” he said, sounding so small. If someone didn’t know any better, they would guess him at the size of Navas at best.

“Yes, Serg?” Pique gently stroked Sergio’s cheek and pressed a chaste kiss to his plump bottom lip. When Sergio didn’t reply, he urged him on. “Serg, is something wrong? Tell me…”

Sergio chewed at his bottom lip. He knew Pique couldn’t see him in the dark, but he still felt very exposed and vulnerable knowing what he was about to confess might change everything between them. He almost didn’t want to risk it. Pique squeezed his tighter and kissed his forehead. His lips were still pressed against his head when Sergio whispered, “I love you.”

Pique let out a little gasp. Sergio started to turn away from him. Pique held him in place and pressed his lips firmly to his. Sergio clung to him, snaking his arm over his side and dug his fingers into his back. He only hoped this wouldn’t be the last kiss before Pique slid out of bed and told him he didn’t feel the same.

After a few moments, Pique murmured against his lips, “I love you too.”

“Prove it,” Sergio challenged. He rolled onto his back and pulled Pique on top of him. He spread his legs and welcomed Pique to settle between them. “Be gentle with me,” Sergio whispered.

The words shot straight through Pique and settled below his waist. He groaned and dipped his head quickly to ravish Sergio’s neck and throat. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his lips moving against the moist skin of Sergio’s neck.

“You. I want you,” Sergio breathed.

“What do you want me to do?” Pique asked, silently begging him to word his request correctly. He just wanted to hear him say…

“Make love to me,” Sergio panted.

Pique moved up to kiss his mouth thoroughly for that. Sergio moaned and scratched his blunt nails over the back of Pique’s neck. Pique arched up, forcing Sergio to drop his hands away from his neck. Pique slid down, licking and sucking his way from Sergio’s neck to the naughty tattoo that seemed to guard the waistband of Sergio’s shorts. Pique traced it with his tongue and then raked his teeth across it.

Sergio arched his hips and hissed when pain rippled through his bruised back. Pique gently gripped his hips and pushed him back down to the bed. “Be patient, Lover,” he whispered, kissing the tattoo.

Pique didn’t waste time getting them naked. He knew Sergio was worn out and aching whether he had been the one to instigate this or not. Pique would be as gentle with him as possible.

He held Sergio’s hip down with one hand while he gently stroked him to life with the other. When Sergio was fully erect, he dipped his head and swiped his tongue across the tip of Sergio’s cock. The familiar salty taste of Sergio hit his tongue instantly. He hummed happily as he took the head into mouth. His mouth vibrated around Sergio, eliciting a moan from the Sevillian.

Sergio reached down and scratched at Pique’s head, and pushed it gently downward, begging him to take him fully into his beautiful, hot mouth. “Please,” he whimpered, sounding so small and eager.

Pique bobbed his head up and down the rock hard shaft, gently grazing his teeth over the throbbing vein that ran the length. Sergio keened beneath him and tried to buck up against his hands. Pique pulled up, nibbling at his head before pulling away completely. Sergio’s eyes fluttered closed and he groaned contentedly.

Pique shuffled forward on his knees and guided his semi-hard cock to Sergio’s lips. Sergio immediately parted his lips and flicked his tongue out. Pique moaned and grabbed the headboard to brace himself as he dipped his cock into Sergio’s eager mouth. Sergio opened his mouth as wide as he could as Pique pushed deep into his throat. When Sergio choked a little, Pique pulled back slightly. Sergio thanked him by swirling his tongue wildly around his cock.

Sergio’s mouth felt so good that Pique almost wanted to stay and come down his throat, but he remembered that Sergio had an even better orifice for him to be inside. He pulled out of his mouth and slid down. Their cocks rubbed together as he found Sergio’s mouth with his own and kissed him hard. Sergio moaned into his mouth when Pique ground against him.

When he ended the kiss, he loomed above him for a moment. When his breathing slowed, he asked, “Do you need me to prepare you?”

Sergio nodded. He loved the feeling of Pique inside of him whether it was his fingers or his cock. Pique leaned over and dug around in the bedside table until he found lube and condoms. A moment later, one of his lubed fingers was inside Sergio. He was still pretty loose from the sex they’d snuck off that morning to have, but Pique didn’t mind preparing him just for the pleasure it gave him. When he had three fingers inside him, he wiggled them to the perfect spot inside Sergio that made him squirm and moan.

Pique grinned and pulled away after a few thrusts. “I think you’re ready, Baby.”

“Mmm… mm-hmm,” Sergio murmured.

Pique rolled on a condom and lubed himself before he gently slid between Sergio’s legs and pushed into him. A moan rumbled up from Sergio’s stomach. He reached up and pulled Pique down to kiss him as they rocked together. Pique slowly thrust in completely and rocked his hips. Sergio moaned into his mouth.

Pique pulled out slowly and thrust back in, savoring the feeling of being inside his lover. After a few slow, but deep thrusts, Sergio was begging him to thrust faster and harder. “Please,” he whimpered.

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you,” Pique panted as he pulled out gently.

“I’m fine. It’s worth it. I’m okay. I want you. Harder. Faster.”

As much as Pique wanted to be gentle, he couldn’t deny Sergio’s pleading. He arched away from him, gripping his thighs for leverage, and thrust hard and deep, slamming against just the right spot. Sergio almost wailed and bucked his hips up. He grabbed his own cock and started to stroke himself.

Pique batted his hand away and took over. He wanted to be the one delivering all of the pleasure to his beautiful lover. Sergio’s hands fell away and scratched at the bed covers.

When Sergio’s stomach began to tighten, he screwed his eyes shut, and whimpered, “Ger…”

“Uuhh, Serg,” Pique returned just before he came hard into the condom inside Sergio.

Sergio came a moment later and reached for Pique, clawing at his shoulders with quivering fingers. Pique pulled out of him and collapsed down on him, burying his face in his sweat-soaked neck and pressed a kiss to his pulse point before he rolled away to cool off. Sergio grabbed a tissue to clean himself up.

A few moments later, Pique had cooled down and was no longer able to stand being away from Sergio. He pulled him against him. Sergio was instantly back to the small little thing that needed to be held and protected and Pique was overjoyed to be the one to do it. He held him close and pressed little kisses to his head, whispering adoring sentiments until he heard Sergio’s breathing grow steady. He cuddled even closer to him and closed his eyes, joining his lover in sleep only moments later.

 

Two hours later, Iker opened the door to his room slowly, assuming Sergio would be sleeping. When a beam of light from the hallway shone on Sergio’s bed, Iker gasped at the site of the rival defender engulfing his teammate.

The light shining in his eyes awakened Pique and his eyes fluttered open. He gazed up at Iker through a tiny slit – all the more his tired eyes could handle. “Iker?” He hissed.

“Sorry,” Iker said, quickly entering the room and closing the door behind him.

“S’okay,” Pique replied. “Um, I…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain,” Iker said. He quickly disappeared into the bathroom before Pique could reply. He was astonished at how small Sergio had looked in his arms. Well, he was astonished at the entire scene really. He hoped Pique would be asleep when he left the bathroom.

When Iker opened the bathroom door a few minutes later, the light shone on the sleeping couple for a moment before he clicked it off. A moment was all it took to rouse Sergio from his slumber. “Iker,” he whispered.

“Puta madre,” Iker muttered under his breath. “Yes, Sergio? What is it?”

“You saw Pique?” Sergio asked stupidly.

Pique, who was only pretending to be asleep next to him, almost snickered at him, but bit the inside of his cheek to keep quiet.

“I did,” Iker said. “What is this? You make him have sex with you to pay you back for knocking you on your ass today?”

“No!” Sergio snapped, his voice now a loud whisper. “We… we’ve been seeing each other for months.”

Iker’s gasp gave away his position across the room near his own bed. “You what?”

“We… well, we, erm, we love each other.”

Iker was silent for a few moments, processing the information. It was hard to believe, but he supposed if he could fall in love with Cesc, his complete opposite, anything was possible. “Well… I’m happy for you, Gypsy.”

Sergio grinned and thanked his captain. “I’m happy too,” he whispered.

Pique shifted closer to him and pressed his lips to his ear. Sergio gasped softly. “I’m happy too,” Pique whispered.


End file.
